Infinite Nutshells
by Stargazer83
Summary: Repost. Short glimpses into the relationship of our favorite foursome. Yes OT4. GibbsTonyKateMcGeeFoursome. nothing graphic.
1. Nuclear Universe Tim

**Nuclear Universe**

By Lt. Cate Pike

(aka Stargazer83)

Inspired by Raindrops on Roses

He guesses they could call it team-building. But he's sure other people would call it something else. Honestly he couldn't care less what they would call it. Though he does wonder what _he_ should call it. The technical term sounds so... inadequate. Maybe it doesn't need a name. It just is.

He shifts a little so he can look at all of them. Sprawled over the obscene large bed. Only DiNozzo... Though it does make him wonder. Did they do this before? Or was he the missing piece to the puzzle. He likes to think that it was the latter. But that probably goes for all of them. Take one person out of the equation and it wouldn't work. Because sometimes two aren't enough to complete a picture. And sometimes not even three.

He takes a moment to study all of them. Take in all that makes them unique. And he realizes that all off them separately could still function independently. The world would still go on turning if they had never met. But none of this would be as perfect as this. Yes. They are a team. In every aspect of their lives.

Tim finds Cait silently studying him from her position with her head on Tony's stomach and her legs somehow tangled with Gibbs'. If their skin colors weren't so different you couldn't tell which leg belonged to whom.

She regards him quietly, a small frown on her forehead. Always the profiler. And he just stares right back into her eyes.

He thinks that maybe he should say something. But then maybe not. They don't really need words a lot of the time. Not here anyway.

Cait smiles and snuggles back into her human pillow. DiNozzo tightens his arms around her but doesn't wake up. Tim watches her lightly stroke his shoulder and then close her eyes again.

He gazes outside for a moment. Watching the snowflakes silence the world. He lets them drain his thoughts and settles back into his place between the comfortable nest that are the bodies of the people he has come to love.

He really doesn't know how exactly it is that they ended up like this. But it doesn't get better than this. Now is all there is. This is his perfect universe. And when he will wake up again, it'll still be just that.

End. But there's another one


	2. In Absentia Gibbs

**In Absentia**

By Lt. Cate Pike

(aka Stargazer83)

Follow up to _Nuclear Universe_

He looks around his house like it's the first time he's been there. And really it's the first time he's been here like _this_ in a while. Alone. Without his... without his team. He can't just quite bring himself to give them the proper name. Because he's had that before. And it didn't last. But this different, too. So there should be a new word for it.  
Maybe team _is_ the perfect word.  
But right now the world won't let them the team they are. There's something going on. Somebody is looking into them. It's probably nothing. And it sure as hell has nothing to do with what they are doing off-duty. But in this world where people can't comprehend anything that goes beyond two halves equaling one, they cannot take any chances. So each of them went back to their long abandoned places.  
As he wanders from room to room, he wonders if there is anything left at their old places. Maybe the clutter should annoy him. But it hasn't bothered him until now - he didn't even realize it was there - so why start now?  
They left their mark on his house like they left their mark on him. But while their things are still here, the house feels  
unnaturally cold.  
For once he can't bear the silence. He likes the quiet. But he also likes choices. And today he didn't choose quiet.  
His hand wanders to the buttons on the stereo on their own accord. The soft sound of a female blues singer fill the house. Cait. McGee gave her the CD last week. No special occasion.  
He sits down on the couch and lets the notes wrap him in a cocoon for a while. He can hear the easy laughter that echoed through the house that night and brought him out from the basement. They have a way of doing that.  
He opens his eyes. The coffee table is cluttered with magazines and books. Some of them are Tim's, but most of them belong to Tony. Who knew that the men reads that much? He and Tim got into more than one mock fight over something they both read. Which usually is just the prelude to something else. But he pushes that thought aside for the moment. It's still early. And it would only make him feel more alone.  
He stacks the magazines into neat piles and then moves to pick up the trail of random things his three lovers have left around the house. Then he looks at what he has in hands (a sweater, more books, some DVDs and just general clutter) and decides he doesn't want his house neat and tidy. He wants to know that they'll be back. So he carefully puts their things on a table on the sides.  
He stands there for a moment, contemplating what to do. Turn on the TV and watch one of those shows the three of them keep insisting he watch. He hates them. Well not really. But he'd never tell them that. He needs to keep some last remains of his façade up – even if they see right through it. So TV or the boat?  
The boat it is. He hasn't worked on it in a while. And a little but of good old fashioned manual labor and the familiar feel of the well loved tools is just what the doctor ordered for tonight.  
He takes a deep breath, inhaling the comfortable aroma of sawdust. Carefully he starts sanding down one of the planks. It brings back memories of many nights he spent down here, feeling alone and lost, trying to make sense of the world and expelling his demons by repetitive movements. And it also brings forth more recent memories. Still some are of unconquered demons. But then there are others. When he came down here just because he enjoyed the work. And some of Tim, Cait or Tony helping him with some part or other when then they had to work through some issues of their own and weren't ready to talk yet. Or them just coming down here to watch him, to just be with him and chasing away the blue clouds.  
He hasn't felt alone since they started this.  
He glances at the clock on the wall and is surprised to see that it's the middle of the night already.  
The bedroom feels cold and empty at first. But then he notices the little things. The items left lying around. Their smell clinging to everything.  
They might not be here right now. But they aren't gone.  
So he gets comfortable in the middle of the large bed, draws the sheets that smell like all of them closer and falls asleep with a tiny smile on his lips.

The End


End file.
